


Saying Goodbye

by DaniPayson



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:53:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29246136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaniPayson/pseuds/DaniPayson
Summary: While working on my current story - if you're reading it I promise I will update - I got an idea for a little story taking place roughly between Babylon and My Struggle II. I see season ten as taking place over most of 2016 and My Struggle three also being part of 2016 and This being Mulder and Scully in 2018 and if I've confused you I apologize it's just my own way of handling the year and a half after a cliffhanger. Or Scully was in a coma for a year and a half - however you like to see it.So, this was the "little" story I thought of writing which ended up being over 18K words as it's pretty impossible for me to write anything small.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	Saying Goodbye

Three months.  
It had been three months since my mother died and I had finally rented a storage unit and driven a U-Hall to her home in College Park. Even though she only lived twelve miles from my own home in Bethesda, I feared if I didn’t stay over, I would return to my condo and never complete what I needed to do.  
Skinner advised me to take a week off after her passing and I never did, so now I was doing as he requested and finally cleaning out the house that she had lived in for over forty-years.  
Wearing jeans, a white t-shirt and a denim shirt I primarily wore when cleaning, I picked up the U-Hall a little past eight am Saturday and was in my mother’s empty driveway in less than an hour. As I sat in the driver’s seat of the large truck anyone with a class D license could operate and looked at the white house, which I had spent my teenage and early twenties living in, there was a part of me that couldn’t go in knowing my mother wouldn’t be there to greet me.  
Our last visit was casual. She had me over for dinner, grilled me about my relationship – or lack thereof – and pulled the usual guilt trip over the grandson I ‘sent away.’ Each time she opened the door she would have a large smile which would quickly fade when she realized it was just me. After six years in hiding, Mulder and I could be a regular couple; we spent every Christmas with her and sometimes Bill, Tara and my nephew Matthew would come into town which was a good distraction from my mother bringing up William. That last visit, two weeks before she left us forever, I told her if she kept bringing William up, I would no longer come over for dinner.  
She seemed to understand.  
And then she died.  
The house needed to be sold. My father paid off the mortgage while I was in the academy and due to the fact that it was in a college town meant we could sell for four-times what he paid for it in 1977. I didn’t care about the money, but every day there was another email from Bill reminding me to get this done as I was the only one who could. Sometimes I wondered if he stayed in Germany to avoid any kind of responsibility.  
Realizing I had to get this over with, I climbed out of the U-Hall, grabbed the house keys from my bag and headed to the front door hoping I didn’t collapse in sadness when I walked in.  
Out of habit, I called out her name…mom…my voice echoing in the foyer, but there was no reply.  
Closing and locking the door behind me I walked up the stairs to her room. The queen bed was neatly made – as you got used to doing in a military family - with exactly three throw pillows. Photos of myself, Melissa, Charlie and Bill sat on her dresser, and by her nightstand was a picture of William and I when he was six months old. Picking up the photo I looked at the smiling baby and his happy mother and wished I could go back in time and never give my little boy away.  
As my heart throbbed from the painful memories of the most difficult choice I had ever made, the doorbell rang. I had been in the house for only five minutes at most, who would even know I was here? Or anyone was?  
Placing the framed photo face down on the nightstand I hesitantly made my way down the stairs, wishing I had brought my gun just in case it was an unwanted visitor.  
Looking through the peephole I saw a face, and my heart skipped a beat as it seemed to do no matter how much I tried to stop it.  
Opening the door, I looked at the man standing on the porch. Clean shaven on a Saturday morning wearing jeans, a grey shirt and a blue and black flannel shirt. Bracing my hands on the side of the door, all I could do was shake my head at the sight of him.  
“What are you doing here?” I asked, even if I already knew the answer.  
“I thought you might need some help.” Mulder replied, “It’s a big house.”  
“I know. I lived in it for over ten years.” This small talk had become tedious and almost uncomfortable. We knew each other more than we knew ourselves, and even though the distance which I had created had shortened in the last few months, it was still there; preventing us from fully speaking from our hearts.  
Mulder nodded, I could see in his eyes and he way he bit on the inside of his cheek he was searching for other words to say, more convincing words to get me to let him in.  
“I want to help.” Mulder said, his voice soft and comforting.  
When we parted ways at the office the night before, I told him I would be taking the week off to handle my mother’s affairs. He nodded and said he understood, but his voice cracked a bit and I could tell he was going to miss seeing me every day and he probably felt uncomfortable asking if he could help given our current strictly working relationship. Being back at the FBI, working with a man I shared a home and a bed with for thirteen-years, came with a lot of adjustments. There were times I wanted to just run back to the hospital and others when I wanted to lock that basement door and pretend that we were back in that house in Strasburg. There was a constant, and daily war between my mind and my heart. I knew I would love him for the rest of my days, but I was too terrified to take that next step. Again.  
“You drove two hours on a Saturday morning to help me?” I said as my hands gripped the heavy white door.  
Mulder nodded, “That I did.”  
Nodding, I stepped back, opening the door to allow him access before closing it behind him, “How did you know I’d already be here?”  
“I saw the U-Hall rental appointment on your laptop yesterday.” He replied, “I wasn’t spying, you left it open clear as day.”  
“More reasons I need my own desk.” I replied walking into the living room as Mulder followed me.  
“I put a request in, but you know how that place is.”  
“Door plate too?”  
“Of course.” Mulder smiled, which quickly faded, “This feels weird.”  
“Being in this house without my mother, or just the two of us being in this house.”  
“Both.”  
“It has been a while.” I said, rubbing the back of my neck as I looked over to where the Christmas tree would be, “She lectured me for at least an hour last Christmas.”  
“About what?”  
“You.” I said looking at him, “Upset you weren’t here. When I told her what happened she looked as if I was the one who broke her heart.”  
Mulder nodded as he leaned against the wall, “You had your reasons. You leaving a year ago probably saved me.”  
“From what?”  
“Myself. Turning into a complete hermit fully obsessed on the end of the world and questioning daily why that didn’t happen.”  
“Are you still questioning it?”  
“Not AS much…” Mulder smirked, “But I’ve found other hobbies.”  
“I’m glad.” I replied given this uncomfortable small talk was getting a little TOO uncomfortable. Things were easier when we were discussing cases or the best restaurant to pick up lunch. Once feelings and the end of our relationship came up, even if he mentioned it in a joking matter, all I wanted to do was run.  
Just like I did a year earlier.  
“Well, there are boxes in the U-Hall, along with paper, bubble wrap, tons of packing tape and the storage place is five miles away and open all night so we should be able to get a couple runs in today.” as I rattled off instructions in regards to packing up my mother’s home, which room to start in and which items would be donated to charity as opposed to which ones would be kept in storage, I watched the way he looked at me. The same way he looked at me when I was in the hospital screaming at someone to check on my mother and before I could stop them the tears started and I went limp, Mulder quickly catching me in his arms as I fell against his chest in unbelievable sorrow. As if someone had reached into my body and removed my soul.  
My arms felt like heavy bags of sand as he wrapped his own around me and pulled me close against him, his chin resting on the top of my head as I closed my eyes and sobbed like I hadn’t sobbed since watching them take my mother’s lifeless body away.  
Maybe that is why he came here today. Mulder knew I would fall and wanted to be there to catch me.  
When the tears finally stopped, and my breathing regulated, I pushed back as a signal to let go of me and walked towards the kitchen as I just needed to be away from him even if I didn’t fully understand why.  
Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, I got a drink of water as I heard the front door open and close.  
“Mulder?” I questioned out loud; could he have really left me?  
Rushing back to the living room I looked out the front window to see Mulder pulling boxes from the back of the U-Hall, then grabbing a good handful – much more than I could have grabbed – and carrying them over his head as he walked back to the front door.  
Opening it before he got there, I watched as he braced the boxes against the wall between the foyer and the living room before walking past me in silence back to the U-Hall to get more. Eventually I joined him, grabbing the large roll of bubble wrap as Ms. Wilkinson from next door came out to see the commotion.  
“Dana!” the woman in her late eighties with a dog who never shut up waved at us, “I’m so sorry about your mother!” she yelled way too loudly as Mulder grabbed another stack of boxes and flung them over his head, “This must be your husband she told me so much about.”  
Mulder stopped dead in his tracks to turn and look at me. I had no idea what the woman who was probably on the brink of dementia was saying so I just smiled.  
“Fox is it?” she said standing on the porch in her yellow house coat, her silver hair in large curlers as she held the loud, white, Bichon Fries in her hands.  
A creepy, yet kind of cute smile crept on Mulder’s face as he slowly turned back around and nodded at the older woman before walking into the house.  
As if I was walking into the principal’s office, I slowly approached the front door, where Mulder was sitting on the second step of the stairs with that creepy grin.  
“Stop it.” I said before he could even speak, “You know how my mother was. It was probably just easier to tell her friends we were married.”  
“And what about the six-years you – we – weren’t around?”  
“I think it was either the Peace Corp or Doctors Without Borders…or I was looking for my spiritual path after leaving the FBI. Not exactly sure on that one.” I replied as my mother really never mentioned those missing years.  
“Your mother was an incredible woman, Dana. I’m glad I got to know her.” He said before walking past me back outside to retrieve more boxes.  
Dana.  
It always felt so foreign when he called me by my first name.  
By ten am, fifty boxes lined the staircase and walls along with four rolls of packaging tape, a box of paper and an extremely large roll of bubble wrap.  
I really didn’t want to do this.  
“Did you have breakfast?” I asked Mulder as he fought with lining up the new roll of tape on the tape gun.  
“I left my house at five-thirty in order to show up at the U-Hall office before you. What do you think?” he replied.  
“There’s a Denny’s a few miles away.”  
“I remember.”  
Yes, the Christmas where my mother’s stove went out and we all had to cram into a booth to eat and Bill glared at Mulder throughout the entire meal.  
“Can I treat you to some pancakes?”  
Tossing the tape gun on the stairs, Mulder pulled his keys out of his front pocket, “But we’ll take my car, not the U-Hall.”  
Mulder bought the Mustang not long after I moved out. I called it his mid-life crisis car, but I also did enjoy riding in it as well. There was just something about the way the engine roared when he shifted gears which made me understand how someone could be attracted to a vehicle.  
Getting a booth near the windows so he could keep an eye on his steel baby, we ordered two ice teas before perusing the menu.  
An egg white omelet looked good, but so did a stack of flapjacks and a pound of bacon.  
“What looks good?” I asked Mulder, his eyes running up and down both sides of the menu.  
“Everything.” He replied before sighing, “Except I stopped eating meat.”  
“Oh…” I said given I should have noticed as we spent the last few months together at lunch and sometimes dinner, “When?”  
“After you left.” He replied, “I just felt like I needed to make some life changes.”  
As the pound of bacon no longer looked appetizing, when Rose - the young woman with the blonde ponytail - returned I went with the egg white omelet with tomatoes and mushrooms and a side of hash browns. Mulder went with a short stack and a bowl of fruit.  
“You have to admit…” I said as I arranged, then re-arranged the cutlery in front of me, “The way you just showed up at my mother’s house, could be perceived as creepy.”  
His back straight against the booth, his body language calm, Mulder nodded.  
“You could have called first…” I continued, even though I was a bit flattered by his gesture, anyone else could see it as …creepy.  
“I considered that…” Mulder said as he placed his hands on the table, “I almost did a couple of times last night. Just to ask if you needed help, but I played it out in my head at least once. I knew you’d say no that you could handle it, then I also pictured what actually did happen not an hour earlier where it became so overwhelming you just broke down. You’re my partner. Regardless of our current relationship status that is fact, and as creepy as it may sound, or look, I will always have your back. You were there for me when my mother died, I wanted to be here for you.” He shook his head as a tight chuckle came out of his mouth, “When I walked by your computer and I saw that big orange banner with the U-HALL in block letters I had a moment of hope.”  
“Hope?”  
“I know it’s stupid, but yes, hope. Hope that you would move out of that place in Bethesda and come home.”  
“I think it’s still far too early for that to happen, Mulder – if ever.” I said to him, even if inside I knew eventually that day would come.  
He was making that face again, I couldn’t imagine the scarring on the inside of his cheeks when he struggled with finding the right words to say, “I guess I can keep hoping.”  
“We’re in a good place now…aren’t we?” Given not too long ago we spent a good hour taking a long walk and talking about life and the future which ended in a very nurturing hug, I thought it was safe to assume I was right.  
Mulder shrugged as he looked out the window, staring at his V6 which I was seeing more of a healing purchase than a crisis.  
Feeling I needed to at least be honest with him about where we were, I took a deep breath, “I was seeing someone.”  
His eyes closed, and it was as if I watched all the life drain from his body.  
“Was…” I continued, “It ended weeks ago…”  
“Weeks?” Mulder said as his eyes slowly opened, but they were still focused on the car.  
“Someone at the hospital set us up. I just didn’t want to tell you because I knew this is how you’d react.”  
“I’m pretty sure this isn’t a conversation I’d like to have right now at Denny’s.” Mulder said finally looking directly at me and not blinking.  
“He wanted more than I was willing to give. After my mother died, I realized I just wasn’t ready to be with anyone as I needed time to actually grieve.”  
“Be with…” Mulder questioned me, his hazel eyes narrowing in on me like a stealth bomber.  
“You know what I mean.” I replied nodding for him to drop it as the server brought our food.  
By a quarter till noon, we finished breakfast and returned to my mother’s vacant home. The entire drive home, Mulder stayed quiet and I recognized and understood why. I knew he hadn’t been seeing anyone in the last year because that would require leaving the house, but the fact that I had casually been seeing someone with nothing more than a good night kiss seemed to hurt him much more than I realized it would.  
“I’ll start in the kitchen.” Mulder said grabbing a couple boxes and the packing tape gun and not looking at me as he walked directly in front of me.  
I didn’t necessarily want to keep all my mother’s belongings – I had Habitat for Humanity picking up the furniture on Friday – but everything else was going to storage until I had the time, and the will, to go through it all.  
Bill wanted her china collection, Charlie requested I find the comic books she hid from him when he was twelve and got in trouble for who knows what. The basement and attic were full of our childhood belongings and before I got accused of throwing out any of their cherished heirlooms, I decided to simply place them in storage and let my brothers deal with their junk later.  
The sound of tape being ripped not twenty feet away from me echoed in the home and I knew if I didn’t deal with it right now, we’d never get past it.  
“His name is Mark.” I said walking into the kitchen with the bubble wrap. “He’s an orthodontist.”  
“I don’t care, Scully.” He said as he removed a stack of plates from the cupboard refusing to look at me as he took the bubble wrap from my hands and unrolled a bit before placing one plate face down and covering it fully with the protective covering and then cutting what was left with scissors which he had retrieved from the kitchen drawer.  
“We never shared more than a kiss.” I continued as if I was talking to a wall.  
Mulder groaned and murmured as he continued to wrap plates, focusing on the job at hand and clearly trying to ignore me.  
“I thought you had the right to know.” I said gently, picking up a box and taking the tape gun, which he had placed near the sink and two feet from where he completed wrapping the plates.  
The room was quiet for minutes which felt like hours as I walked away to get the paper to wrap cups in. When I returned, Mulder was taping a box shut – clearly the one with plates in it – and after picking it up he turned and looked at me, “Just do me a favor and let me choose what I have the right to know.” He said quietly, “I need a marker.”  
“I’ll get it.” I replied walking out of the kitchen and to the den where my mother kept all the writing utensils in her desk in the upper right-hand drawer.  
As I attempted to open the drawer, it was stuck on something, so I had to pull harder, causing a book on the desk to fall over and along with it a photo. After grabbing a couple of black medium tip Sharpies, I picked up the photo and turned it over, only to see an image of Mulder and I sitting on the couch together – our last Christmas together - my head resting on his left shoulder, his arm draped over my right as we were looking down at a book on both of our laps.  
“’Twas The Night Before Christmas.” Mulder’s voice said behind me.  
“I know.” I replied softly, my mind lost in the memories the photo brought on.  
“Who read my part last Christmas?” He asked.  
“I don’t remember.” I replied as he took a Sharpie from my hand and walked back into the kitchen.  
Exhaling deeply, more deeply than I thought was possible, I held onto the photo as I walked into the kitchen where he was now working on my mother’s coffee cups from around the world collection.  
“What happened to us?” I finally asked him, and mostly, myself.  
With an I Heart NY mug in one hand and a Bonjour with a poodle and the Eiffel Tower in another, Mulder looked me dead in the eyes said only two words, “You left.”  
“It happened long before I left…I tried…I really tried to make it work.” I said defensively looking again at the photo, “In all honesty, this was probably the last time you smiled.”  
Mocking me, Mulder gave a sarcastic all teeth grin before quickly returning to resting Mulder face and wrapping the mugs in bubble wrap.  
I was pretty sure we both wished he hadn’t come over, but the fact that his anger stemmed from jealously did make me believe what we had was still there somewhere; we were worth saving.  
“We’ve never really talked about this.” I said, “And I think we should.”  
“Look, you couldn’t handle a man who kept forgetting to put his socks in the hamper or left the orange juice out all day. I get it.”  
“You think I left because you’re sloppy?” Was it possible to feel sad and angry at the same time because that’s what I felt, “Mulder, I didn’t care about the clothes or the juice or even the damn toilet seat!”  
“You sure yelled a lot about it.” He mumbled as he placed two more bubble wrapped cups in the box.  
“Well, when your ass falls into cold water at five am, you’re going to yell about it.” I replied.  
A small smile came over his lips and I knew we were getting somewhere.  
Walking closer to him, within a good foot, I leaned against the kitchen sink and just watched as he reached into the back of the cabinet and pulled out some more mugs. “I was afraid I would come home and find you dead.”  
He blinked a few times before slowly removing his empty hands from the cupboard, just as slowly he turned his head to me and continued to blink. I watched his Adam’s apple protrude as he swallowed and looked up at the ceiling, “I wouldn’t have done that to you.”  
“I don’t think you understood how bad it was…” I continued, thankful that enough time had passed where I could just get it all out, “I watched you sit through the same informercial for six hours.”  
“What was it for?”  
“Does that even matter?”  
“Maybe.” He shrugged, “I wish you had said something then.”  
“I did. I tried. You just weren’t …there. I missed the man *I* fell in love with.”  
“And what about Mark?” he said before clearing his throat again, “Was he…there?”  
“Mark was a phase… to see if it was even possible for me to love anyone else.”  
“I know I shouldn’t ask this, but hell I’m here so, was it?”  
Placing my hands on his hands as they rested on the counter, I simply shook my head, “No. Maybe you do truly only fall in love once.”  
Closing his eyes, Mulder pulled his hands out from under mine, “We have a lot of work to do.”  
“On the house or us...” I replied as I crossed my arms and focused on my feet.  
“Both.” Mulder replied, “But for now, let’s focus on the house.”  
By two we had finished packing up the kitchen. Boxes lined the hallway and we started bringing them out to the U-Hall. By the fifth trip I was starting to feel exhausted and hungry and collapsed on the steps as Mulder retuned from closing the truck door.  
“I’ll order Chinese.” He said walking into the living room and pulling out his phone.  
Without even asking what I wanted, I listened as I heard him order my favorite dish. Shrimp with peapods. No sauce.  
If he was trying to impress me without looking like he was trying to impress me, it was working.  
Lunch arrived by four, we ate in relative silence until a little after five and I was honestly too exhausted to look at another box.  
“Are you going to drive the two hours home?” I asked him as he threw the Styrofoam containers into a large garbage bag.  
“There’s a motel down the street. I’m sure there’s a vacancy. I didn’t want to book it ahead of time in case you felt my showing up was… creepy.”  
“It’s a six-bedroom house, Mulder.” I said fearing if I let him leave, he may choose to never return. “Why waste money?”  
“You don’t want to be alone in this big house, do you?”  
He had me there, “No…I don’t.”  
Mulder nodded, “I’ll go get my bag.”  
I had the cable turned off a week after the funeral and given there were no digital antenna boxes in the house, every tv produced nothing but static.  
Mulder sat on the couch, staring at the white noise as if he was trying to make an image out of all the static or maybe communicate with it.  
“There is a VCR.” I replied as my mother never really bothered buying a DVD player.  
“Your mother never seemed like much of a movie buff.” Mulder replied, flipping from one static channel to another seemingly hoping for something to come to life.  
Grabbing the remote from him before I lost my mind, I opened the cabinet next to the twenty-seven-inch tube tv, “She was a HUGE movie buff.” I smiled and the memories of every Friday night when we’d go to the video store as a family and pick out a movie. With six people of various ages, it was hard for us all to agree on something, but somehow it always happened. My mother continued that tradition until video stores closed and she had to find old VHS tapes at the library book sales or yard sales. Her collection was, in a word, eclectic, “Everything from E.T. to Casablanca, to Titanic…” I said as I read off the titles.  
“Not E.T.” He objected quickly.  
“I know, it makes you cry.” I replied giving him a knowing smile.  
“No Caddyshack?” He asked, a smirk on his lips that meant I knew exactly what he was referring to given I never really saw the end of that movie – at least when I watched it with him – which was the only time I had ever even attempted to watch it.  
“No.” I quickly replied, “Not her type of movie.”  
“Too bad.” He said, dusting non-existent lint off his lap.  
The fact he was actively flirting, instead of moping as he was hours earlier did make me feel a bit better about things; the long talk we had a month earlier outside our home in Strasburg weighing on my mind.  
“Why don’t you pick one?” I said hoping that whatever he picked would determine if we were on the same wavelength.  
Getting up from the couch, Mulder walked to my mother’s VHS cabinet and looked over her collection, “Beauty and The Beast…”  
So not on the same page…  
Leaning down, he looked at the bottom shelf, then back at me before grabbing a tape and handing it to me.  
“Breakfast at Tiffany’s.” I said looking at the ever-gorgeous Audrey Hepburn. “You’re sure?”  
“It’s your favorite.” Mulder replied as he stood back up, smiled down at me before walking over to the couch and sitting down. “Well, one of your favorites.”  
My freshman literature course spent a semester on the works of Truman Capote. We had to read The Grass Harp, In Cold Blood and Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Three very different works from one of our most influential writers. The Grass Harp wasn’t really my cup of tea, In Cold Blood kept me up at night with nightmares about the brutally murdered Clutter family, but Breakfast at Tiffany’s spoke to me. Holiday Golightly was a woman who just wanted to feel like she belonged, somewhere…anywhere…scared of never finding a place to call her own, never forging long-lasting, meaningful relationships with anyone, and never feeling settled. Which is exactly how the book ended. When I saw the movie, so many years after it had originally premiered, the character was now Holly and, in the end, she finds love with the man whom she knew she could depend on from the moment she met him. At first, I didn’t like how the ending and character of Fred had changed from the book to the movie, but the more I watched it, the more it grew on me that someone so lost could be loved. At the time I was a nineteen-year-old girl struggling with my own self-worth; doing what I could to please my father, regardless of how it made me feel about myself. Every now and then I would pick up the book, especially after my father died, and re-read it, taking in all the memories it brought back to those nights when I would be scared about failing a test, or just doing something - anything - to disappoint the man. I hadn’t watched the movie in years, and we found it on late one night while hiding out in…Texas? New Mexico? It was all a blur so many years later and given the situation we were in at the time – no place to call our own, feeling like we didn’t belong anywhere and only with one another to depend on – it just affected me even more.  
Now, as I sat down on the couch, about two feet away from the man I depended on in those troubling times, with so much history between us it felt so strange to be watching this movie again. Remembering being in that dark hotel room, fearing every morning that someone would show up and take him away from me.  
As the opening credits rolled, watching Holly Golightly walk along the streets of New York City, looking like a lost soul, that scared nineteen-year-old girl who just needed to be loved came back to me. Mulder was focused on the movie, and I couldn’t help but wonder if the memories of those days were coming back to him as well. Without asking, I moved closer, and closer, until – with his eyes centered on the twenty-year old tube tv – his arm came around my back, pulling me against him and I felt at peace.  
Resting my head on his shoulder, his right hand resting on my waist, we watched the movie in silence.  
He smelled like lavender.  
It wasn’t unpleasant, but it had been some time since I was close enough to smell him, and watching Holly run from a loud and drunk man, climbing into Fred’s apartment, Mulder sighed.  
“Damn, I miss The A-Team.”  
I silently chuckled, remembering he said the exact thing when we watched the movie years so many earlier. They poured drinks, smoked cigarettes and talked about their lives…well as much as Holly was willing to share.  
I had lost track of time, but I knew the movie hadn’t progressed very far when the overwhelming feelings of those darkest days in our lives took over. Turning my eyes away from Audrey Hepburn and George Peppard, I looked at Mulder - more like stared. His hair was starting to grey a bit, his six o’clock shadow giving him a bit of a rugged look. I honestly felt frozen in fear. Unsure what to do. Like a girl on her first date.  
Obviously feeling my gaze upon him, Mulder’s own gaze turned to match mine, our eyes locked, both of us clearly in the same confusing place. Two teenagers and neither one wanting to be the one to make the first move.  
My head started to move closer.  
His head did the same.  
Our lips weren’t even an inch apart, and when they touched, I felt like I would melt into him.  
As if we had never been apart, Mulder pulled me onto his lap, his tongue parting my lips as I straddled him, my pelvis crushing against his as I felt his firmness pushing against my leg. The pleasure of knowing I still had such power as I felt his hands move under my t-shirt, caressing my breasts over the bra making me fear I would climax from his touch alone.  
This was probably a mistake, and one I was happy to make as I unbuttoned his jeans and reached in for that member begging to be free. My hand gripped tightly around him, Mulder pulled back, moving his hands to my face and looking me dead in the eyes. He didn’t speak, he didn’t have to.  
Slowly climbing off him, I looked down at a man on the verge of…ecstasy or agony. That’s a lot of responsibility for one woman. I had two choices, two forks in the road. Choice one, we could continue, but knowing that it was impossible for this to be a causal relationship. Choice two, I could say it was too soon, turn off the tv, and retire to our separate beds, but fear that the relationship we were slowly mending would forever be shattered.  
For once, letting the non-logical part of my brain make the decision, I picked up the remote, turned off the tv and tossed the remote on the couch before unzipping my jeans, pulling them and my panties off and tossing them a few feet away.  
Returning to my original position, with a lot less between us, I slipped my hand under the jeans again, taking hold of what I desired most. Sliding my hand up and down the shaft as I felt it harden under my fingertips. Mulder licked his lips and closed his eyes as his head fell back, my lips on his neck, sucking and biting as I raised my body above him, slowly guiding him inside me as my body adjusted to his size. In slow motion I began to pull myself up and down, my hands on his shoulders as a guide, removing them only for a moment as he pushed the denim shirt off my shoulders, and it slid off my arms. His hands were then on the t-shirt, pulling it up over my head and tossing it away before he finished with the bra which also ended up somewhere I hoped I found eventually, as I didn’t pack another. My hands returning to his fully clothed shoulders, my pace quickened, his hands moving to my bare breasts, teasing the nipples between the sides of his fingers as I screamed out in pleasure – something I hadn’t done in quite some time.  
My own hands moved to his neck, my eyes locked with his as I took all of him in, gripping and releasing his cock in a way I had perfected and clearly never forgotten. His hands on my waist, he gripped me hard, and I tightened around him, waiting for the moment both our bodies would release in indescribable pleasure.  
Mulder went to take a shower while I went to my bedroom.  
My bedroom. When I left for college, the posters and the cassettes were put in storage, but my bed was the same double bed I went to sleep on every night dreaming about marrying David Cassidy.  
The weather was cool, but not cool enough for flannel. I had brought a pair of grey cotton pajama pants and a white tank top to sleep in, and quickly changed as I heard the water stop running. Given what had just transpired under an hour earlier, I shouldn’t have been so nervous to have Mulder see me naked, but there was just something about being in this bedroom now which made me self-conscious.  
Sitting cross legged on my bed, checking my phone for any messages and thankful there were none, I placed it on the nightstand to look up and see Mulder looking at me. Wearing only a pair of black and white plaid pajama pants, he walked to the doorway, his chest much more defined than the last time I had seen him without a shirt as the excess water from his damp hair ran down it.

“Which bed should I take?” he asked a very open-ended question.  
When we stayed here at Christmas, this was our bed – and because I shared a wall with my mother all we did was sleep. Rejecting him now, after what just happened, would be more than cruel…but there was also a part of me afraid of losing him again. Losing him to the darkness of his own mind.  
“Whichever one you want.” I replied honestly hoping he would choose this one.  
He moved closer, I backed up. With each step, I scooted back one more until he was at the edge of the bed and I was on the other side. On my side.  
“This one has some nice memories.” He said crawling onto the bed, looking down at me.  
“That it does.” I said trying not to think about the fact my mother was no longer on the other side of the wall.  
Clearly, Mulder had the same thought and slowly lowered himself into a sitting position, “We should probably get some sleep.”  
My internal alarm woke me up a little before nine, which meant I had slept a good ten hours. Maybe it was all the manual labor the day before, or maybe it was just sharing a bed with someone again. A certain someone.  
I hadn’t really packed well – my mind not wanting to – and even though I could have easily run home to get something else, I chose instead to wear the same items I had worn the day before and only remembering the change my underwear as a rule.  
Honestly wondering if I was alone, I walked down the stairs in bare feet to the kitchen where I could smell donuts. They had a very fresh smell which went directly to my grumbling stomach.  
“Krispy Kreme?” I said to the man drinking a cup of coffee with the large white box with green and red printing in front of him.  
Mulder nodded as he placed his cup down, handing me another one, “Baked fresh this morning. Had to go all the way to Connecticut Ave to get them, but it was worth it.”  
Picking up a still warm donut with my free hand I felt my stomach churn, “That’s a good forty-five-minute drive each way.”  
“Made it in thirty – each way. Still worth it.” He replied leaning back against the counter, “Which room do we tackle today?”  
“I believe we can get what there is in the living room and the dining room done today.” I said before biting into the most delicious donut I had ever tasted. It had been so long since I had a fresh one, I could sense Mulder’s eyes on me as I internally moaned at how good the sugary dough was.  
“Two-mile drive from the office.” Mulder smiled as he picked up his cup and took another sip, “You finish eating, I’ll get starting in the living room.”  
“Ok, but save the VHS in a box in case you want to watch E.T. tonight.”  
Mulder laughed what had to be the fakest laugh I had ever heard as he walked out of view. This was nice. Coffee, donuts and no need to discuss what happened the night before.  
Opting for fast food at lunch, we headed over to Subway for two veggie delites and Cheetos as now that I was aware of his vegetarianism, I wanted to support him, but as we took our subs and bottles of water to a back booth, Mulder sighed as he looked at my small sandwich with lettuce, cheese, tomatoes and pickles.  
“You know you can eat meat in front of me. I won’t be offended.”  
“I just didn’t feel like it.” I replied opening my tiny bag of Cheetos and grabbing a small one, “But, since we’re on the subject, why did you stop?”  
“Well, I had a lot of free time and no one to talk to and I looked into it. Did you know that eating red meat can lead to developing depression?”  
“But you really never ate that much.”  
“True and being a vegetarian can also lead to it. Further proof we’re all different. So, I started by cutting out red meat and pork, then poultry and fish…and quite honestly, I started to feel better. I woke up feeling good, went running every morning, and my brain just stopped telling me to go back to bed and because no one wanted to see me anyway.”  
“Did your mind really say that to you?” I asked, a half-eaten Cheeto in my mouth as I felt the overwhelming feeling of guilt for leaving him when he was clearly at his most vulnerable.  
Mulder nodded as he grabbed a fallen black olive, “I’m not saying I simply snapped out of it, but the mind has been pretty quiet lately. Maybe going back to work helped…or…something else.” He sighed as he took a large bite out of his sandwich and chewed quietly.  
Following his lead, I also took a bite out of my much smaller sandwich and chewed in silence as my eyes drifted to a young couple at the counter, she with long red hair and he with dark brown hair, holding hands as they looked over the menu. I missed holding hands.  
After swallowing the last of the first half my sandwich, as I watched Mulder wrap up the second half of his for later, I then did the same and saw the young couple now at a booth to the left of me. The woman still smiling as she also ate her Cheetos. Clearly feeling my eyes on her, she looked my way, the smile didn’t fade, but grew as she picked up her soda cup and drank from the straw, looking directly at me for another moment before turning her eyes back to the man she arrived with.  
“Does that sound good?” Mulder said.  
Blinking as I clearly didn’t hear a word he said, I looked at him, “What?”  
“Were you even listening to me?” He asked, his voice slightly annoyed.  
“Sorry.” I replied, “My mind …wandered.”  
“What I was saying…” he continued, “Is maybe we could actually go to a movie tonight.”  
“Go to a movie…like…a date…” I questioned.  
“Friends go to movies too, don’t they? We are still friends…right?”  
“Of course, we are.” I replied realizing it had been months since I’d been to a movie, “Yes, that sounds good.”  
Mulder nodded, “I believe the movie Money Monster is still playing. Might be nice to get out, actually be around other people…and well…Clooney...”

“Also, so what happened while watching a movie last night doesn’t happen again.”  
Mulder gave a small smile, “I’m not complaining, but I also know it was the heat of the moment…I remember watching that movie with you before. It was bound to happen.”  
“Is that why you chose it?” I asked, honestly curious.  
“Maybe…” He smirked, “We never finished it the first time either. I have no idea how it ends.”  
“It has a happy ending.” I replied giving him a reassuring smile.  
“Good.” He replied as he scooted out of the booth, “Maybe we will too.”  
The Regal Majestic Stadium 20 wasn’t very crowded on a Sunday night, and after a light dinner of pizza and salad at the Gusto Silver Spring beforehand, we walked into the small theater with our medium popcorn and medium sodas – after all you can’t watch a movie without popcorn and soda – to find not another soul in attendance.  
“Private showing?” Mulder questioned as I followed him to the middle section of the theater and to the middle seats.  
“This is bizarre…” I replied looking around, “I’ve never.”  
Mulder cleared his throat before taking a sip of soda  
28 Days.  
The movie.  
Stuck in a small town in Idaho, looking for some …creature…I couldn’t even recall what it was supposed to be and after spending the day combing the forests, we said screw it and decided to go to a movie. The theater was empty, and before Sandra Bullock even had a chance to check into rehab, our tongues were already dancing to Should I Stay, or Should I Go and to this day The Clash gave me goosebumps when I heard that song.  
Mulder was very much in a ‘screw it’ kind of mood back then. Once our relationship crossed that ever crucial line, we couldn’t be alone together when we weren’t focused on whatever case we had been assigned as we couldn’t keep our hands off one another. As if eight years of pent of sexual frustration was finally coming out every time we saw one another. It wasn’t hard to contain while working as our minds were focused on just that, but once five o’clock hit…the memories made me blush.  
We were older now; people in their fifties don’t make out in movie theaters.  
Do they?  
The trailers started as we innocently ate our popcorn and drank our sodas…maybe caffeine would keep me awake…and calm.  
A movie with Melissa McCarthy titled The Boss got a few laughs out of the man next to me, while I kept one eye on the screen and another on the entrance to the theater.  
Barbershop: The Next Cut  
More guffaws from Mulder, still no one coming into the theater.  
As more trailers played and more minutes passed, I realized no one was coming to our rescue – from each other - and leaned back hoping to just sit and enjoy some movie with George Clooney and Julia Roberts which didn’t have Ocean in the title.  
I fell asleep.  
No insult to George and Julia, but it happened sometimes, and I didn’t awaken until Mulder was nudging me that the movie was over.  
At least that stopped us from embarrassing ourselves, but I still felt bad for dozing.  
“Was it good?” I asked following Mulder out to his car as he tossed his empty soda and popcorn bag in the trash. My soda hardly been touched, same with the popcorn, but I chose to at least save the popcorn as I’m sure the soda had gone flat and tossed it in with his trash.  
Mulder shrugged, “Could have been better.” He replied remote unlocking the car as we went to our respective sides, “Probably the first time in history I ever finished a movie with you next to me.” He winked before getting into the car.  
“Guess I was just more exhausted than I realized.” I said getting in and slamming the door beside me.  
“It’s fine.” He replied turning the engine, “Not in my top ten of dates, but still…good.”  
“It wasn’t a date.” I replied quickly, snapping the seatbelt into place.

“Sure.” Mulder replied before pulling out of the parking spot.  
Earlier in the day, before the dinner and movie, we had packed up the living room and the dining room. My mother’s precious china and silver were in boxes in the storage unit. My arms hurt and my back ached so it was little wonder I fell asleep while a crazy man had a gun on George Clooney. Now, as I lay in the deep bathtub, I wished I could transfer to my home in Bethesda to replace the shallow one I was stuck with, I felt my body trying to drift off again before a knock on the door woke me up.  
“Scully…” Mulder’s voice on the other end said.  
“Yeah?” I blinked rapidly, waking myself up as quickly as I could.  
“I have to go.”  
Hearing those four words hurt, they hurt much more than I thought they would. “Why?” I asked as it was eight pm on a Sunday night.  
“Skinner called. Case in Roanoke. A girl was kidnapped, and they think for some reason I can help.”  
“But…” I said unable to think of the words to follow.  
“She’s a five-year old girl, Scully. I have to go.”  
Yes, he did.  
But I didn’t want him to.  
“Ok.” I said softly, “Be careful.”  
“I will.” He replied.  
Laying back down in the tub, I waited ...hoping he would change his mind, but knowing he couldn’t. I heard his feet on the steps, then the door slamming shut and as the sound of the Mustang starting up reverberated through my head, I slowly lowered myself under the water.  
I couldn’t sleep.  
By two am I had given up.  
Getting dressed, in the same clothes as the day before – I changed into one of my mother’s white blouses for our ‘date’ – I decided the faster I finished this, the quicker I would just be done, and I could go back to my own home and my own bed.  
My own cold bed.  
Heading directly to the basement, I started with Charlie’s boxes. Not caring to go through them as I carried each one to the dining room and stacked them on the table. Followed by Bill’s, but when I came upon Melissa’s I wasn’t sure what to do.  
Sitting down on the cold cement floor, I opened the first box. On the top was her Yearbook. Class of 1980. Opening it I flipped through all the black and white photos and signatures from all her friends ‘have a great summer!’ ‘it was so great sitting next to you in Bio.’  
Flipping to the class photos, I went to the S’s. Sandwiched between Michael Scowl and Janie Seaton was my sister. My beautiful, vibrant sister with a smile that could light up Las Vegas. My sister, whose life was tragically taken away when a murderer mistook her for me.  
Slamming the yearbook shut, I threw it back in the box and closed it tight. If I let myself feel too much, the sadness would destroy me.  
At least that’s what I kept telling myself.  
My mind fully focused on moving the boxes to the dining area, I didn’t even notice that the sun had come up. The basement empty of all our childhood belongings, I then proceeded to start walking them to the truck. Keeping myself from feeling lonely, or as ridiculous as it sounded – jealous of a five-year-old girl - I filled up the U-Hall and got in the driver’s seat to take the boxes to the storage unit. Turning on the radio, as the silence was killing me, I was at a light then the news broke into the middle of the chorus to Crazy Little Thing Called Love.  
“We have breaking news; the case of missing five-year old Jennifer Sanders from Roanoke has focused on searching Preston Park. The child was last seen by her parents sleeping in her bed before she went missing Sunday morning. The FBI has been brought in to assist with the search. More news as it develops.” The woman said before the song came back on, but I didn’t feel like singing anymore and turned it off.  
“Where are you?” I asked Mulder as I sat at the dining room table with a large peperoni pizza and a bottle of red wine. I left him a message at five, he didn’t bother calling me back till after seven and by then I had devoured half the pizza and three fourths of the wine. Good thing I bought two bottles on my way back from my second trip to the storage place.  
“Room 206 at the Hampton Inn and Suites at the Roanoke Airport.” He replied, his voice clearly tired.  
“So, I guess you can’t really sneak out and come over…” I said pouring what was left of the wine into a glass and wondering why I even bothered with a glass at all.  
“It’s a five-hour drive.” He replied, “Honestly, I never actually told Skinner I wasn’t coming in this week…”  
“Oh.” I replied, now wondering if I shouldn’t just go ahead and open the second bottle, “What would you have done?”  
“Called in sick.” He replied, then faked a cough, “Doubt he would have cared, but this …this is important.”  
“I saw.” I replied taking a large sip of the merlot.  
Jennifer Sanders, the spitting image of Carol Ann from Poltergeist. I looked at the news on my phone after arriving back at my mother’s place to see what she looked like. Trying to get into Mulder’s head, “She’s beautiful.”  
“She is.” Mulder replied, “Are you following the story?”  
“I heard bits and pieces in between U-Hall trips and then I looked it up on the internet.”  
“Her parents are destroyed. The mother won’t sleep. I mean, it’s only been two days, but she’s five.”  
“I know…I know…”  
Every time we were assigned a missing child case, I saw what it did to my partner. How it brought back all the feelings with his sister. Even though that case had been solved – at least in Mulder’s mind – the pain of feeling responsible for her abduction still weighed on him until this day. We weren’t given many child abductions cases, but clearly this one was given to him for a reason.  
“How are you?” I asked, I had to know…given what I knew he had to be going through.  
“I’m ok.” He replied, but I knew he was lying. “How are you?”  
“Drunk.” I replied before taking another sip. “Can’t you tell.”  
“A little.” He replied, “You miss me that much?”  
“No.” I lied. “I’m just…sad…being here…alone…pizza…wine.”  
“We had pizza last night.”  
“There isn’t a law!” I replied defensively, as my words slurred on law.  
“Pepperoni?” He asked.  
“You know me too well.” I sighed.  
“Always.” He replied, “I’m making do with corn nuts from the vending machine.”  
“You need to eat something more substantial.” I replied in my slurred and motherly way.  
“I will, but for now I need to focus on Jennifer.”  
“I understand.” I sighed, “I’ll let you go.”  
“Have a good night.” He said before the line went dead.  
“You too.” I said to...myself.  
Two-day old Krispy Kreme donuts were still edible, and after snarfing down what was left of them and tossing the box in the garbage, I tackled the bathrooms. Focusing on nothing other than finishing what I had come here to do – not to mention only sleeping two hours – I put my phone on the Sirius 80’s channel and set a challenge to myself to be done and back in my own bed by Wednesday.  
Then I found the photo albums.  
And the home movies.  
We didn’t have many, my father made a modest income, but my tenth birthday at Friendly’s, and Melissa’s graduation, then my graduation…I just sat on the floor in front of the tube tv and let myself cry. For my mom, for my sister…for everyone.  
With the second bottle of wine, I sat on the couch and flipped through the albums. All the square photos with the white borders and the month and year printed on the bottom. April 1974, January 1975. A snowman, Charlie trying to ski, Bill’s baseball game. Years and years of memories I didn’t want just sitting in a box in a storage unit. Taking the six albums, the video tapes and a box with photos that never made it into the album, I placed them in a bigger box and then wrote in big block letters TAKE HOME.  
But which home?  
In 2005, three years after going underground, I was recognized in a shop in Charlottesville…by Skinner.  
We had been living at the Comfort Inn for about a month. Finding it best to change scenery every thirty days and living under false names Mulder had used to establish a bank account and fake ids for when we did need money and…food.  
Michael and Sarah Perry. Common, but uncommon enough names. The ID was made by someone Mulder met underground using photos we had taken at one of those dollar Photomat machines and it matched the debit cards we were also issued under Perry no one asked any questions; and given there was over three-hundred thousand dollars in said bank account – one he had opened when he initially went underground – there was no need to ever worry about being overdrawn.  
It was a Monday, and I was picking up groceries at Trader Joes. My hair in very sloppy bun, I had been so used to not being recognized that when I heard someone say “Dana” behind me, every hair on my body stood on end.  
My hands gripping the cart, I was too terrified to turn around, until the voice came closer and was right in front of my cart full of organic food.  
“This doesn’t look like Canada.”  
It was Skinner.  
My mouth agape in shock, the fear slowly left my body as I looked at the older man I hadn’t seen in three years with the wire rimmed glasses wearing jeans and a flannel shirt.  
He smiled, nodded, and walked with me to the check-out lane.  
He said he came there every summer; had and old friend from Vietnam he liked to stay with. They’d go fishing and drink beer while reminiscing about the old days. He checked out first, with his cart of craft beers, while he watched my two-hundred-dollar purchase ring up and took a gander at my debit card and license.  
“So, Sarah…” he said as he walked with me out to the car, “That’s a lot of food for one person.”  
Still in too much shock to really form words, I opened the trunk to fill with the canvas bags I carried with me on my weekly shopping trips full of food to cover us for the next week, and only nodded.  
Looking in the bags, Skinner pulled out a bag of sunflower seeds and sighed, “How is he?”  
“He’s good.” I quickly replied before nodding for him to return the bag of seeds to the bag he took it from.  
“You’re sure?” Skinner asked.  
Given I really didn’t want to share too much with anyone, even with a man who helped break my partner out of prison, I just feared saying the wrong thing. “As good as he can be.”  
“And you?”  
“As good as *I* can be.” I replied closing the trunk. “You don’t want to keep your friend waiting.”  
Skinner nodded as he looked to the beer in his cart and then back at me, “You know, it’s safe now…Sarah…you don’t have to hide anymore.”  
“What do you mean?” I asked him, “These people wanted Mulder dead.”  
“Those people are gone.” Skinner replied, “They’ve been removed from the FBI.”  
“How?”  
“I’m not quite sure honestly, but I know Kersh filed charges and they’re gone.”  
“So, you two are ok…and Doggett and Monica?”  
“They left the bureau. I’m not sure where they are now, but Kersh and I are still around, butting heads…” He smiled a bit, “The door is always open.”  
“Even for Mulder?”  
“I think people miss him more than they thought they would.” He said patting me on the shoulder, “Just… think about it.”  
Still untrusting of …everyone…over the last three years we had been slowly making our way back to Virginia as if we were testing the waters to see if it was safe. Wanting to believe Skinner, I expressed to Mulder my desire to return to school as I had been looking at specializing in pediatric neurology. For reasons I couldn’t ascertain, the idea came to me while I was sleeping, and I hadn’t been able to push it out of my mind. Maybe being in Charlottesville, down the street from The University of Virginia was a sign…and running into Skinner being the confirmation I needed to continue this path.  
Driving through Strasburg, Virginia we stumbled upon an old house with a For Sale by Owner sign. There was a large security gate a good ten yards before the farmhouse itself. Mulder was instantly in love. I had applied to UVA under my real name and was quickly accepted. If we bought this house, that meant I would have a two hour commute each way to and from class, but the look on his face made me realize it was well worth it.  
Transferring money from his bank account into one under my name only, I paid for the house in cash. The owner was only asking for fifty-thousand dollars, leaving well over one hundred in Mulder’s/Michael’s bank account. I paid for classes and books with the money he transferred over, and we finally had a home. Our home.  
It was still our home.  
The condo in Bethesda was a foreclosure; I got it for a steal a year earlier, but I never considered it my “home.” My home was the drafty house in Strasburg with the leaking faucets and creaking stairs.  
Mulder never called Tuesday night.  
I assumed he was in that mental place where he’s so focused on a case that no one else exists. I liked that Mulder, but I also worried he would fall too deep as he had so many times. Even if it meant he had solved an unsolvable case, I still hated what it did to him psychologically.  
That night I slept, but weird dreams started. Maybe it was the wine, but I was lost in a house I didn’t know…I heard voices I didn’t recognize…and then a spaceship appeared.  
It was probably the wine.  
Wednesday morning, I was out of donuts, so I took a much needed walk to the McDonalds where Jimmy Gunther kissed me on the cheek when we stopped for lunch on the way to a debate competition in DC. With my coffee, orange juice and egg McMuffin, I sat at a table and opened my phone to the Washington Post. Scrolling the headlines, I saw it…missing five-year-old girl found dead.  
Her body was in a shallow grave.  
A neighbor boy had confessed to sneaking into her room and kidnapping her. The boy was twelve. He said he wanted to protect her from a Griffin he had seen in her yard and had taken her to his house, but she kept crying for her mommy. Trying to keep her quiet he smothered the child, and then in a panic, buried her in the park a mile away. How a twelve-year-old boy thought to do that was bewildering, but my mind quickly turned to the fifty-four-year-old man asked to work on the case.  
Quickly eating the McMuffin I no longer desired, and then finishing the juice just as quickly, I grabbed my coffee, darted out of the McDonalds and quickly dialed his number.  
Voicemail.  
“Mulder, please call me.” I begged, my voice cracking on the word me as I raced on tired legs back to my mother’s house.  
The phone on the steps with the volume turned up, I checked it every time I passed by with another box. On the way to the storage unit, I kept it on vibrate, and by seven pm – as I had hoped – the boxes were all tucked inside a 10’x15’ storage unit with a monthly bill of one-hundred and two bucks which would be auto deducted from my parent’s estate.  
Habitat for Humanity would be there Friday at noon, but as it was, with everything now packed away, I just wanted to go home.  
Or whatever I really called that place in Bethesda.  
After returning the U-Hall early, I took an Uber to my condo and picked up my mail as I walked in the front doors and turned off the alarm. Checking my phone to see there were no missed calls.  
Tossing the bills and ads and other junk, I went to the fridge where the front panel display informed me I had a dentist’s appointment next Wednesday. The instant pain of a drill coursing through me, I opened the door and grabbed an already opened bottle of wine before dialing Mulder’s number again.  
Straight to voicemail.  
Again.  
Maybe tomorrow.  
Thursday morning, I woke up in my own bed, still in the clothes I had arrived home in with half a glass of wine on the nightstand. My phone was still under my hand as I picked it up to see nothing more than a news alert about the current election I’d rather ignore.  
The clock on the phone altered me it was well past eight. Sitting up as I dialed Mulder’s number again…voicemail. Sighing, and worrying like I always did, I then dialed another number.  
“Skinner.” Skinner replied quickly on the first ring.  
“Have you heard from Mulder?” I asked not needing to announce who he was speaking to.  
“Not since Jennifer’s body was discovered.” Skinner replied, “He said he needed some time off.”  
“You know not to call him on these cases.” I said in a direct and almost furious tone.  
“I thought it was going another way. Like that case in California sixteen years ago.”  
“And in the end, this was just a case of a child murdering another child.” I replied trying to stay calm, “Little girl cases always break him, and I’m trying SO hard to stop that from happening.”  
“You still love him don’t you.”  
Words I didn’t expect to hear – from my supervisor of all people, “Excuse me?”  
“Dana, I knew bringing him back here could be a problem. All the issues we had with Mulder fourteen-years ago would just come up again, but I took a chance and I’d have to say in the last year he’s done excellent work. You both have. At first, I was hesitant pairing the two of you together again, but what I can I say – it works. The two of you work. I apologize if I seem out of line, but whatever happened in the past to cause you to sever your relationship can be resolved. Don’t give up on love.”  
My eyes blinking rapidly, this man I had known for over twenty-years having such a candid heart to heart with me didn’t seem out of line, it just seemed …I couldn’t even think of a word to describe how it felt. Weird. It felt weird.  
“Sir, this has nothing to do with our personal relationship. I’m just looking out for Agent Mulder.” I always made sure to put Agent before his name when I was concerned for him in a professional manner.  
“I know you are. All I can tell you is he did seem upset after finding Jennifer’s body. You might try calling him.”  
“I have.”  
“Well, I’m out of other options, but I do have to ask if you’re doing well?”  
“I am.” I replied, “My mother’s house is packed up and the furniture will be picked up tomorrow…then cleaners are coming in…and…”  
“I know it’s hard. Take all the time you need.”  
“Thank you, sir.”  
“Take care Agent.” He said before disconnecting the call.  
From ‘don’t give up on love’ to ‘take care, Agent” Skinner was seriously confusing me.  
By noon, I had given up on Mulder calling me back. Getting in my car, I pulled onto I-495 for the two-hour drive to Mulder’s home.  
Our home.  
Due to an accident on I-66 W, I didn’t arrive at our home until a little before three. The mustang was in the driveway, so he was clearly in there, hiding from the outside world which he gotten far too good at. Knocking on the door did me no good, so I thankfully came prepared and unlocked the front door, walking into a home I walked into every day for nine years.  
Our home.

“Mulder?” I called out, closing and locking the door behind me.  
The kitchen was clean, spotless, and all that was on the dining room table was a folder and a map. Lots of circles around Preston Park and an X on what I assumed had to be where they found Jennifer’s body.  
Opening the folder there were three photos. Fanning them out one was of Jennifer, one was another girl with dark blonde hair and glasses I didn’t recognize and the third was Samantha.  
“What are you doing here?” Mulder’s tired voice came from the middle of the stairs.  
“You didn’t pick up your phone.” I replied walking towards the stairs, “I was worried.”  
Unshaven, his eyes glassy, wearing grey sweatpants and a t-shirt which had seen better days, Mulder walked slowly down the stairs, stopping on the last one and looking down at me, “I’m not your problem anymore.”  
His voice was cold. Not like the man I had been with five days earlier.  
This was the man I had to leave over a year ago.  
Mulder pushed by me and passed by the table, shoving the photos in the folder and closing it.  
“Who is the other girl?” I asked him.  
Mulder sighed and yawned as he ran his hands through his obviously greasy hair, “Jessica Ridgeway. She was kidnapped in Colorado in 2012. Her body was found dismembered a few days later. The guy – a seventeen year old - who killed her said he wanted to know what it was like to kill someone.”  
What I feared would happen, had. Once he got involved on one missing child, it just opened the door to another and another…  
Watching him shuffle off into the kitchen, his balance off – probably from lack of sleep – I knew I had two choices.  
I could leave, let him work through his own demons, just as I had the year before.  
Or I could stay, force him to talk to me, help him work through his current darkness.  
Tossing my bag on the couch, I sat down and crossed my arms.  
Walking out of the kitchen with a bag of potato chips, Mulder stopped and stared at me, “You’re still here?”  
“The house is in my name.” I replied, keeping my focus on him.  
Rolling his eyes, he started to walk towards the stairs, and I watched him until he was out of sight. This time, I wasn’t leaving.  
I read some books on my phone, played some mindless games, but after two hours my battery was drained, and I was about to pop.  
Don’t give up on love.  
It was probably the cheesiest thing Skinner had ever said to me, and he probably questioned himself after saying it, but he was right. This was worth fighting for.  
Walking up the stairs I headed towards the sound of the TV I had protested having in the bedroom, but since I was no longer sleeping in said bedroom, Mulder had every right to put one in there.  
I recognized the music playing as I entered the bedroom, where Mulder sat in the middle of the bed which we had shared for more nights than I could count.  
“You’re still here.” He said again without looking at me.  
“It’s still my house.” I replied.  
Taking off my shoes I walked over to what was my side of the bed and sat down, pulling myself against the headboard and forcing my partner to move over a bit.  
“A-Team.” I said looking at the TV, “Where did you find this?”  
Mulder shrugged, “Some channel in the hundreds.”  
The smell of the cheddar and sour cream chips he was senselessly eating were overwhelming as I snatched the bag from his hands to then grab a few before handing it back to him.  
I knew he wasn’t going to talk about it, that’s not how we were going to solve this, but I wasn’t giving up. Not this time.  
Unsure how much time had passed, I pulled my phone out of my pocket to see that the battery had fully drained, “What time is it?” I asked Mulder as he stared at the tv like a zombie at Murdock in a mental hospital asking for trash bags. His screaming TRAASSH BAGS instantly bringing me back to the time Mulder was in a hospital screaming my name.  
“Mulder…” I said again.  
His eyes were focused on the screaming Murdock until it went black and a commercial for a magic pillow came on.  
Mulder blinked and turned to me, “Did you say something?”  
“What time is it?”  
Mulder shrugged, “My phone died two days ago.”  
“Where is it?”  
Mulder shrugged again, “Probably in my coat pocket.”  
“And your charger?”  
“Nightstand drawer.” He replied, “My nightstand.”  
Looking over at the nightstand I previously had used, which was of course empty, I shook my head before getting out of the bed and walking past the glowing box to find his phone.  
His suit jacket was on the back of the dining room chair, and just as he said, his phone was in the left inside pocket and clearly as battery drained as mine.  
The stove clock read it was a quarter after six and I knew if we didn’t eat something more than chips, I’d go crazy and Mulder would fall deeper into his own troubled mind.  
“Food.” I said as I entered the bedroom and went to his nightstand, pulling out the charging cord and plugging it in behind the wall. At least I remembered where the outlets were.  
“What about it?” Mulder asked looking at the empty bag of chips.  
“Do you have anything of substance?”  
“I haven’t been to the store this week.” He replied.  
“You need to eat, or your depression will get worse.” I replied turning on the light next to the bed.  
“I’m not depressed, I’m angry.”  
“Angry?” I questioned looking down at the disheveled man in a shirt that NEEDED to be burned and cheese chip dust in his beard.  
“Yes!” He yelled in a tone so loud I jumped a bit. “This kid, this BOY, kills his next-door neighbor because he believes she will be eaten by a Griffin. A GRIFFIN!”  
“What is a Griffin?” I replied, honestly curious.  
“It’s a mythic beast with legs of a lion and the head and wings of an eagle. It was seen in medieval heraldry as a Christian symbol of divine power and a guardian. GUARDIANS DON’T EAT LITTLE GIRLS.”  
The passion he was exuding was sorely missed over the last couple of days and moving to the end of the bed I sat down, crossed my legs and looked him square in the eye. “What do you think really happened?”  
“The kid was evil Scully. I saw it the day before when we talked to him. He acted all concerned about helping us, his parents were incredibly nice, they even went searching at Preston Park with us. When the kid’s story didn’t add up, saying he saw Jennifer the day before in her blue dress when in fact she was wearing a pink dress that day and she slept in a blue nightgown his demeaner changed and the Griffin came up.” Mulder shook his head, “I think this kid killed Jennifer because he wanted to know what it felt like to kill someone.”  
“Did you share this with anyone?”  
Mulder shook his head, “No. Too many people feeling sorry for the kid, that accidents happen…it’s hard to outright accuse a twelve-year old boy of being would be serial killer.”  
“You do have over twenty-years getting into the minds of said killers.”  
“Yeah, well.” He shrugged and flipped more crumbs off his lap, “My opinion matters very little these days.”  
“It matters to me.” I replied, moving closer to him, “It always has.”  
Mulder nodded a bit, my eyes focused on him as he dug his upper teeth into his lower lip and gave a slight shrug of the shoulders, “You said something about food?” he said giving me a bit of a smile and after the last few days I was happy to take it.  
Looking over the drawer of take-out menus which clearly hadn’t been cleared out since I originally left, I looked for something of substance. Bunny’s Barbecue – out given his new diet. Queen Street Diner – that brought back some good memories, but the diet…El Jalapeno Mexican Grill. This seemed like a winner. I recalled them having the freshest avocados.  
Practically sprinting back up the stairs I was stopped in my tracks when I got to the door, hearing Skinner’s voice as Mulder held his phone.  
“I know it’s been a rough couple of days, but you need to call Dana. She’s incredibly worried about you. Whatever you two had, I know it’s still there and I know you know it too. I probably sound like a ridiculous romance novel, but it’s what I feel when I’m around the two of you and before I start sounding like a greeting card, I’ll end this, just call her. I’ll see you on Monday.”  
My fingers gripping the menu I felt the tears start to build up behind my eyes. He just looked so sad, so…broken…sitting there, holding his phone.  
“Next message.” Said the computer voice, “Two fifty-five am.”  
“Mulder…”  
That was my voice…at a time I didn’t recall calling him.  
“You can’t do this to me again.” Still me, but … “I understand what you’re going through, I always have, but at the end of the day you have to remember that what happened to Samantha was not your fault. You’ve been blaming yourself for nearly forty-years and you need to stop. I don’t know what else I can say to convince you but, I just need you to know- “  
“End of message.” Came the computerized voice. “No new messages.”  
Mulder tossed the phone next to him and exhaled deeply, “Need to know what?” he asked, his attention directed on the tv.  
I had no idea what I was going to say, as I didn’t even recall leaving that message, so instead I chose to say what I felt, “I still love you.” As if a giant weight was off my chest I walked closer to the bed, “I always will.” I said softly.  
Picking up the remote, Mulder turned off the tv and got out of the bed. Looking directly at me, he walked the three feet between us and placed his hands on my face, with no words needing to be spoken he kissed me, hard. The menu fell from my hands as I felt my body go limp from his touch, his lips tasting like sour cream and cheddar as the kiss deepened, the stubble tickling my chin, as his hands moved to my upper back, pulling me closer to him before he parted from me, taking my hands in his.  
“I’m going to go take a shower.” He said smiling at me, a true, genuine smile I hadn’t seen in so very long.  
I nodded, “How does Mexican sound?” I asked leaning down to pick up the menu.  
“Perfect.” He replied.  
Wearing a black polo shirt and jeans, a freshly shaved Mulder and I sat at a table sharing a basket of chips and salsa while enjoying Sangria Senorials and feeling like we had made a crucial step in getting our relationship back where it needed to be.  
“Did you get everything packed and stored?” He asked finishing off his Mexican soda and asking the server for another.  
I nodded, “I have pain in muscles I didn’t even know existed.”  
“Given you’re a doctor that’s mildly concerning.” He replied breaking a chip in half and dipping it in the salsa, “Sorry I wasn’t there to help.”  
“Me too.” I replied, “Furniture gets picked up tomorrow, then it’s in the hands of the realtor and the cleaning crew.”  
“And you’re ok…” He asked as Cindy brought him another glass bottle of soda.  
“Yes.” I replied, “Why wouldn’t I be?”  
“Well, you collapsed in my arms on Saturday and that was your home. Sometimes it’s hard to say goodbye.”  
“It was my home over thirty-years ago. I’ve had many homes since then.”  
“Childhood homes are different.” Mulder replied, “I know it was hard for me when my parents split, and they lived in two different homes…then my dad died and having to handle all that on my own. I’m just saying I understand.”  
Nodding as Cindy brought our dishes, a giant slab of nachos for him and a Mexican rice bowl with chicken for me.  
“You’re sure you’re ok with me eating this?” I said picking up a fork and wanting to shove it in my mouth like a pig.  
“As long as you floss before kissing me.” He smirked, picking up a chip with a long string of cheese as the jalapeños and sour cream fell off it.  
“Will do.” I replied.  
After dinner, we returned to the house we had once shared, and Mulder got out of the car while I stayed in the driver’s seat. He closed the door and just looked at me through the window.  
“Stay.” He said, “You can head back in the morning.”  
“It’s a two-hour drive and traffic on a Friday…” I replied really hoping he would use more words to talk me out of leaving.  
“I understand.” he said, his voice sounding like I told him Santa didn’t exist, before turning and heading back to the house.  
I had two choices...  
Turning off the ignition, I pulled the keys out and got out of the car, closing the door behind me and watching as he turned from the porch watching me.  
Maybe he didn’t need words.  
All we did was sleep, but he held me in his arms like he used to and that was enough.  
Mulder joined me on the drive back to my mother’s place, making the two and a half hours in Friday morning traffic not as unbearable. The Habitat for Humanity truck arrived a little before noon and by two everything had been removed.  
The house was empty.  
And silent.  
And cold.  
“I was thirteen.” I said as Mulder and I sat on the second to last step of the staircase in the foyer, “My father was transferred to Annapolis and we spent the summer living in a hotel and looking for houses near good schools. This was the fourth one we looked at. It was as empty and cold as it is now, but …we made it a home.” I said, “Melissa sneaked through the front window when it was past her curfew on prom night, Charlie was grounded for wearing roller skates in the house…”  
“And what did Dana do?”  
“Dana was perfect.” I replied smiling at him, then shrugging, “I stole cigarettes from my mom’s purse.”  
“Did you get caught?”  
I nodded, remembering my dad’s voice bellowing throughout the house when he found out what I had done. “I couldn’t leave my room for anything other than school and my job at the diner for a week.”  
“Such a rebel.” Mulder replied, gently knocking his right shoulder against my left.  
“It’s going to be so weird turning the keys over to the realtor. Someone else living in my house…”  
“Someone who can make their own memories.” Mulder replied.  
Nodding I slowly stood up, walking around looking at the outlines of paintings that had been on the wall so long there was discoloring left behind. Running my hand up and down the entrance of the kitchen where Charlie hit his head when he was wearing the skates in the house.  
“We can stay as long as you need to.” Mulder said as he waited by the stairs.  
Nodding I looked at him, then the wall. The longer I stayed, the harder it would be to leave. “I’m ok. We can go now.”  
After meeting with the realtor to drop off the keys and sign a few forms, I returned to my car where Mulder was waiting for me in the passenger seat, “Well, that’s it. I’ll take you home now.”  
“One question.” Mulder asked looking at me, “Do you still have your mother’s ashes?”  
I nodded, “I haven’t had the chance to take them there yet.”  
Mulder nodded, “Let’s go.”  
“To Norfolk?” I replied.  
“You need to do this.” He said, “It’s six now, we should be there by ten.”  
“I have to pick up the ashes from my house first.”  
“Fine.” Mulder looked at me, “We need to do this now or you never will.”  
On October 26, 1962 – my mother already pregnant with her second child – John F Kennedy called off an end to the Cuban Blockade which was put in place following the Cuban missile crisis. For thirteen-days there was a standoff between the United States and Cuba over the installation of nuclear-armed Soviet missiles in Cuba. For three years, my parents had been living together – in sin as she put it one too many times – and had already had Bill and she was eight months pregnant with Melissa before he was shipped off. I guess knowing he could have died without the woman he loved – and his children – inheriting his benefits, made my father reevaluate his priorities and he marched off that ship and proposed. Beyond the Sea was playing, and at the navel base in Norfolk was where we spread his ashes in early January of 1994 and my mother said she wanted the same – so they could be together watching the ships as they came sailing in.  
I had been putting it off for months, just like the house, but Mulder was right. If I didn’t do it now, I never would.  
As he stayed in the car – refusing to even walk into my condo – I retrieved the urn from the mantle above the fireplace and placing it in a black drawstring bag I then carried out to the car and hung on the neck rest of the seat behind me and then securing it in place with the seatbelt.  
“I found The Hampton Inn near the base with rooms available tonight.” Mulder said as I got back into the driver’s seat and secured my own belt.  
I hadn’t even thought about the fact we’d have to stay over and by now I didn’t want to go back into my house and deal with the alarm just to pack a few things for one night. I could always get a toothbrush on the way.  
“Sounds good.” I replied as I started the engine.  
Mulder nodded, then sighed, LOUDLY. “The only question is, one room or two.”  
We had already shared a bed again, it wasn’t anything new, and I had missed the feel of him lying next to me at night. I always felt safe with him there.  
“Ok, new rule.” I said looking at him, “One room when we’re not working, two when we are.”  
“Because that way we get to bill the government.”  
“It keeps things…professional.”  
Mulder nodded, “That too.” He said pulling out his wallet, “I’ll cover this one. We can get a good night’s sleep and head out to the naval base tomorrow morning.”  
“Sounds like a plan.”  
I knew this drive so well I could have done it in my sleep, and even after stopping at Target to pick up toiletries, we still made it to the hotel by ten – with a lot of good talks on the drive in.  
I needed a shower, and after finishing washing off such a long day, I could hear Mulder mindlessly flipping through channels as I pulled a towel over my freshly washed hair, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror – naked with a giant while towel on my head – and chuckling. Not at the image before me, but just…maybe I needed to finally laugh about something again.  
Pulling on the peach and white striped collar nightgown I had picked up at Target along with the much-needed toiletries, I exited the bathroom where my partner had settled on an old episode of Alice.  
“Well, kiss my grits!” Mulder yelled in a high-pitched screech at the blonde with the helmet of hair named Flo.  
“You always seem to stumble upon the seventies.” I said sitting down on the other side of the bed and sliding back as I adjusted the flimsy pillows behind my back.  
“Technically….” Mulder said as he tapped the remote against his right thigh, “The A-Team was the early eighties.”  
“I digress.” I sighed looking at the clock to my right, “It’s after eleven. WE should probably get some sleep.” I said emphasizing the WE.  
Mulder nodded as he sat up and turned off the TV, “I’ll take a shower first.” He said as he got up, tossing the remote on the bed next to me.  
Why did I think he meant a cold shower?  
Thunder crashed.  
Waking me only hours into much needed rest. Getting out of the bed I walked over to the front windows and pulled back the drapes. Rain was pouring in sheets down the window and lightening crashed causing me to jump back from the window.  
The clock by my side of the bed read it was seventeen minutes after three.  
The man who could sleep through an explosion was still out, resting on his right side facing where I had been resting – as if he was watching me before falling asleep. Realizing there was really nothing I could do about the weather, I crawled back into the warm bed, turning over to my left side and just looking at his dozing face, watching as his nose moved as he inhaled and exhaled in a rhythmic motion before my eyes grew heavy and I drifted off to sleep.  
When my eyes opened again, I was still on my left side, but my only view was a pillow. Rolling over onto my right side, the drapes were still open, and the rain was continuing to fall at the same pace it was only hours earlier. Now, the clock alerted me it was well after eight am and the rain told me I wasn’t going anywhere.  
Sitting up in the bed, I looked around the dimly lit room – much dimmer with the lack of sunlight – and recalled another time I was in a bed - alone – and it was raining outside.  
I called out Mulder’s name, to which I received no reply. I knew he wouldn’t have left me as I was the one who drove, but I really did hate waking up alone.  
I had hated it for the last year, I just didn’t realize how much until I remembered what it was like to not be alone.  
Everything was still moving too fast. Which sounded stupid given how long we’d known each other, but I really needed to know Mulder was ok before I took another chance. I didn’t want us to fail again; even if feared the distance between us would eventually drive him to someone else.  
“I hate this part of Virginia!” Mulder yelled entering the hotel room soaking wet, “If I see another red hat I’m going to....”  
“Going to what?” I asked looking at the tall and lanky man who now resembled a drowning rat.  
“Not sure.” Mulder replied tossing two equally soaking wet bags on the small table by the door, “Seven-eleven goodies. I grabbed some vitamin waters, donuts, carrot sticks, some hard boiled – already pealed – eggs and a couple of cheap ponchos.” Mulder shook his damp head as I handed him a fresh towel. “I felt like someone was watching me though.”  
“In Norfolk? Who do we know here?”  
“No one.” Mulder replied before vigorously rubbing his head with the towel. “I’m probably just being paranoid.”  
Grateful that he could recognize such a state of mind, I opened the wet plastic bags he had tossed on the table, “Pretty sure we can’t go out today.” I said picking up one of the white ponchos, “But I appreciate the thought.”  
“Didn’t you say it was raining at your father’s funeral?”  
“Yes, but not like this.” I replied looking at the window and the lack of visibility past it. “It’s not safe out there and you probably shouldn’t have gone out in the first place.”  
“Well, I needed a cold shower anyway.” He said tossing the wet towel on the bed, “So, if we can’t do what we came here to do, what will we do?”  
“Whatever it is people usually do when it’s raining?” I said shrugging at the rain on the other side of the window which fell in such a way I understood why people used the phrase ‘it’s raining cats and dogs.’ “At least it’s Saturday.”  
“I guess I’ll see if the room is available for another night.” Mulder said picking the room key back up from the table, “Maybe see if the gift shop has playing cards.”  
The fact that he was ok with the two of us just ‘hanging out’ and playing cards on a rainy Saturday warmed my heart in such a way I feared I might be glowing – and I may have rushed to a mirror to make sure I wasn’t.  
There was an indoor pool, but we didn’t bring any suits as this was supposed to only be a one-night stay. Thankful that they weren’t fully booked, and we could keep the room for the night, I double checked the weather on my phone to see if tomorrow would be better to release my mother’s ashes. Maybe there was a part of me that was stalling on purpose; maybe there was a part of me that didn’t want to say goodbye.  
In the gift shop, Mulder had purchased a light blue Norfolk sweatshirt which was not at all flattering – for anyone – and matching sweatpants; apparently light blue was the only color left in his size and the same for me in pink, using the same excuse, but I couldn’t help but wonder if he just wanted to see me in pink.  
It had been AGES since we played cards, I believe the last time being a round of strip poker on New Year’s Eve 2014 when we really didn’t feel like doing anything else. Now, we were fully clothed, playing Gin Rummy and sitting at the small table by the window watching the rain fall while snacking on pretzels and drinking Cokes and just enjoying each other’s company while a Die Hard marathon played at a low volume on the TV in the background.  
“This is nice.” I said, taking a moment to really appreciate my surroundings.  
“Sitting in sweats, eating junk food and playing cards?” Mulder replied as he cracked open his second can of Coke.  
“Yes.” I replied, “I mean, it’s not what I had planned this weekend, but…it’s nice.”  
“What did you have planned?” Mulder asked clearly interested as he placed four cards with the number two on the table.  
“I’ve been reading this book titled All The Single Ladies: Unmarried Women And The Rise Of An Independent Nation. I was probably going to spend the day finishing it.”  
“Are you trying to tell me something with that book?” Mulder eyed me as he drew a card.  
“Of course not; it’s simply a book about how, for the first time in US history, single adult women now outnumber married adult women.” I said taking a sip of soda and looking at the man who seemed to have a left eyebrow with a fishhook in it. “It is just a book. “I said before putting down three queens, “Are we even keeping score?”  
“We…can.” Mulder replied, the fish hooked eyebrow seeming to be even a bit higher now.  
“No.” I replied looking at the twenty-five-inch flat screen on the tv, “John McClane doesn’t have the same effect on me.”  
“Too bad.” Mulder pouted as he discarded and drew another card.  
I appreciated the flirting, it meant he was still interested and was less likely to start looking for someone else to spend his life with, but the thought of seeing him with anyone else caused an ache in my heart that I hadn’t felt since my mother passed away. Now I understood his pain when I mentioned Mark.  
“Gin.” Mulder said laying down cards five through eight of hearts before crossing his arms and leaning back and just…staring at me, “Now what?”  
As if on cue, there was another crack of thunder that made me jump and drop my useless cards on the table.  
“Go fish?” I asked trying to think of anything that didn’t involve being naked….even if my mind kept going there anyway.  
Mulder shook his head and got up from the chair, walking to the window behind me and looking out, “We used to have so much fun on rainy days.”  
“We used to be a lot of things.” I said collecting the cards and mindlessly starting to shuffle them.  
“What do I have to do to prove myself?” Mulder said behind me, his voice changing to a much more aching tone, “You already said you still love me and I think it’s clearly obvious I never stopped loving you.”  
It was clearly obvious he felt more comfortable not saying it to me, but I wouldn’t want to look at myself either in this gawdy pink sweatsuit. I silently cursed the rain because if it weren’t for the rain, we would have already taken care of spreading my mother’s ashes into the Elizabeth River and we would be in a car on our way back home and not having this conversation. I felt trapped by mother nature and my own fear.  
I didn’t reply – not out loud – and the tv went black.  
“Let’s at least get some real food.” Mulder replied as I continued to shuffle cards.  
I took a moment to look outside and the rain had let up a bit, and maybe it would be good for us to get out and be around other people.  
“We can put the ponchos to good use.” Mulder added.  
Turning around I looked at him, still by the window looking at his phone. “Where can we go?” I said as I looked at him in the light blue sweat suit, “Not dressed like this.”  
“No, we are definitely changing.” He said continuing to look at his phone, “Hope my clothes dried off by now. There’s a Ruby Tuesday’s down off of Hampton Blvd.”  
Nodding I got up from the chair and approached him, looking up as his attention was still on the phone, “I’ve never stopped loving you. You know this.”  
Mulder slowly blinked and turned his attention away from the phone, “I know.” He said, a shy smile forming on his face, “Get changed.”  
Ruby Tuesday on Saturday afternoon wasn’t exactly the place to be. We were seated at a table near the window where we could watch the rain continue to fall and asked for two iced teas with lemon after we were given menus and told our sever Maddy would be right with us.  
“Since you’re paying for the room, I feel it’s best I pay for dinner...lunch…whatever.” I said opening the menu.  
“Fine.” Mulder said as he looked up and it was as if all color left his face.  
Turning around, I saw the TV he was looking at where two people with the last name Sanders and knew instantly they were the parents of the innocent five year old girl murdered by her neighbor.  
“Do you want to switch seats?” I asked, hoping he’d say yes.  
“I’m ok.” Mulder moved his attention from the TV to me, “I am.” He said giving an honest smile.  
Wanting to believe he was right, I returned to looking at my menu for anything that would actually satisfy me.  
It wasn’t on the menu.  
Poking at what was left of my parmesan shrimp pasta, and watching as Mulder used a broken chip to scoop out the rest of the spinach and artichoke dip, I looked at my phone to see it was already near four and we had successfully spent most of the day just being friends.  
But I wanted more.  
I knew he wanted more, but things were just so different now.  
“I don’t regret what happened last Saturday…”I said staring directly at the shrimp impaled on my fork.  
Mulder was mid chew when he stopped and slowly nodded, “Good…”  
“I just…don’t know what to do.” I replied, “We’ve made so much progress and I don’t want to lose what we had.”  
“I feel like we had this exact same conversation sixteen-years ago.” Mulder replied, “We’re not going to lose anything.”  
“Our jobs?” I questioned, “We signed a no fraternizing agreement when we came back to the FBI.”  
“I can assure you, that our fraternizing will not have a negative impact on our work. And maybe we can start sharing rooms while on the clock.”  
His humor helped an already difficult decision I was having to make with myself. “I think it’s best we keep work separate from everything else.”  
“Pretty sure you also said the same thing sixteen-years ago as well.” Mulder said as he picked at the straw in his glass, “Scully, I’m honestly ok with going slow…I am. It’s just kind of fun teasing you now and then. I mean, I went…years…without being with someone; I’m pretty good at being patient and at least I know what to look forward to when you are ready again.”  
“So, the chances of you meeting someone else…” I finally had to ask.  
“Possible, but not probable.” Mulder unlocked his phone and slid it to me, “Maybe you do only fall in love once.”  
His phone wallpaper was a photo of the two of us, the first time he got a phone with a front camera and he took a selfie as we sat on the porch of our home. It was a ridiculously happy photo and you couldn’t look at it without smiling.  
Grinning ear to ear, I slid the phone back to him, “Send that to me.”  
Mulder nodded as he picked up his phone, tapped a few buttons followed by a small ding from my purse.  
I had been do distracted looking at the cute photo of us, that as we exited the restaurant I didn’t even notice that it had stopped raining and as the sun began to peak out from behind the clouds I noticed a rainbow off near the water.  
“If that’s not a sign…” Mulder said pulling out his phone to snap a pic – now that he was so much better at taking them.  
I really wanted to believe it was.  
After a long bath in the small hotel tub, I changed back into my new nightshirt as I heard a familiar song coming from the main room.  
Exiting the bathroom I first looked at Mulder, who was in the king sized bed, under the covers with the look of a child who was up to something grin on his face.  
As the music kept playing, I slowly walked closer to him and looked at the tv to see a gopher and a golf ball on the screen.  
“You have got to be kidding me.” I said looking at the TV then at Mulder, still with that grin on his face.  
“Just a coincidence I swear.” He claimed, “Blame TNT.”  
Crossing my arms I watched as the movie continued on the TV, a woman walking upstairs waking up her kids, “I remember this part.”  
“Maybe now you can actually see how it ends.”  
“You’ll let me?”  
“Scouts honor.”  
I never saw how the movie ended.  
For no reason other than being held in the arms of the only man I would ever truly love and falling asleep way before Bill Murray had any chance of catching that gopher.  
I woke up a little after seven, Mulder still sound asleep next to me, and I stayed in bed staring up at the ceiling with an uneasy feeling. The kind of feeling you have after a nightmare, but it was more like I felt like someone was trying to communicate with me and I had no idea who it was. It almost felt like a warning of some kind, but ended abruptly before I awakened.  
The sun was shining brightly, not a cloud in the sky and I knew that today was the day to finally say goodbye.  
We had a long and filling breakfast, wearing the same clothes we had worn when we arrived and even though I promised to keep the pink sweatsuit, there was no real guarantee I would ever wear it again.  
When my father passed away we had a small funeral with just family as one of his crew mates scattered his ashes into the river. As I didn’t even comfortable going to the base, I debated over the best place to release my mother’s ashes into the river. Looking at my phone my best bet was Willoughby Beach. There, I could release her ashes into Willoughby Bay which connected to the Elizabeth River.  
We found a small parking lot near the entrance and given it was pretty chilly this time of the year, it looked as if we would have the beach to ourselves. Taking the black urn out of the matching drawstring bag, I held it in my arms as Mulder took my keys and locked the car. Seagulls called out as we began to walk towards the beach, the sound of the birds and the waves crashing guiding us until we reached the water and stopped walking.  
I should have probably planned something heartfelt to say, beyond mom I love you and I miss you…but words were failing me as I stood there, clutching the heavy urn while watching the waves crash.  
“I’ve put off doing this…” I said looking down at the ceramic vessel containing my mother’s ashes, “As if that’s finally admitting to myself that you’re really gone. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of you, and wish you were still here. I don’t know why God took you away from us when we needed you most, but you always said that God has a plan for all of us and maybe his plan for you was to reunite people…” I said taking a moment to look at the man beside me, who was looking down at me, “and I know your spirit has been reunited with your eternal love.”  
Opening the urn, I closed my eyes and walked a few steps, waiting for the water to rush over my feet before slowly turning the urn downward as I felt the wind picking up her ashes as the weight of the urn lessened in my hands. Opening my eyes as tears began to fall, I looked up at the sky and just felt a sense of peace come over me.  
Turning around, I looked at Mulder, standing three feet behind me as I felt my feet began to go numb, and placed the lid back on the urn without looking into it and slowly made my way back to my partner.  
Without saying a word, Mulder took my hand and walked me back to the car.  
Not even having to ask, Mulder got into the driver’s seat and used his phone to direct us back to I-295.  
We didn’t speak for the four hours back to Strasburg, even when we stopped for gas. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say or do being left alone with an empty urn, and even though I knew my mother’s spirt was gone for months, it just felt like I had lost her all over again.  
Mulder pulled my car up behind his and turned off the ignition, I could feel his eyes on me as I sat in the passenger seat with my head against the glass window.  
“Are you going to be ok to drive home?” he asked.  
I nodded, “I have to.” I said softly, “All my clothes are there.”  
“You could always take another day off.”  
“No.” I took a deep breath and sat up, looking at the house we once shared, “I can’t.” I said as turned my attention to him, “I guess I expected to feel closure…and I don’t.”  
“I don’t think you ever truly feel closure when you lose a parent – or a child. All you can do is live your life and never let them leave your memories.”  
“It’s funny in a way.” I said looking down at the empty urn, “We’re both orphans now.”  
“At our age, it’s really not that surprising.” Mulder’s voice was soft and comforting, “I could always drive you to your…condo…and stay over. I would just need to grab a few things.”  
“I thought you said you never wanted to see it.”  
“I don’t.” Mulder said pulling the keys out of the ignition, “But I will if you need me.”  
As much as I wanted him to stay the night, I knew it was for the best if we went back to our respective beds. I had a lot to work out in regards to everything that had happened in the last week, but I also knew that I felt like we were making great progress on our relationship.  
Leaning over, I kissed my partner gently on the cheek, “I’ll be fine.” I said before opening the passenger door and getting out of the car.  
Walking to the driver’s side, I opened the back door and placed the much lighter urn back in the black drawstring back as Mulder opened the door and got out.  
As I closed the backdoor, Mulder handed me my keys before giving me a much needed hug.  
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Bright and early.” He said.  
“Not if I don’t see you first.” I smiled in return.  
Mulder nodded as he walked back towards the house, when he got to the porch he stood there for a moment and looked towards me as I got into the driver’s side of the car as if he was waiting for me to change my mind before nodding and walking inside the house, closing the door behind him.  
Turning the engine I took a moment to ponder my choices, but after a few seconds I put the car in reverse. We were on a good path and would be taking it slow.  
I may not have believed in soulmates, but I believed in fate.


End file.
